


Never Need to Make You

by Pookaseraph



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Claiming, Dom!Charles, Dom/sub, M/M, Sub!Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-23
Updated: 2011-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-24 21:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pookaseraph/pseuds/Pookaseraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik had always been alone, and he never expected to find a Dom that would suit him. He certainly never expected Charles Xavier to claim him just minutes after he failed to kill Schmidt in Miami, his mind in turmoil. He hated it, but at the same time he couldn't deny that Charles seemed to know exactly what he needed. Takes place in a D/s alternate universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Need to Make You

**Author's Note:**

> Based off this prompt on the kink-meme:
> 
>  _America has the toughest submissive legislation in the world. Unclaimed adult subs are not permitted to live independently or travel without government-approved escorts._
> 
>  _Erik is an unclaimed sub. He lives as a Dom, buries his instincts and needs, and NOT because of the things Shaw did to him. Erik is afraid of being claimed, of being owned, by a Dom who mistakes submissiveness for total consent and feels the need to use punishment and force on him to reinforce their own status. Erik wants a Dom. The longer he lives as one, the more he longs for someone to submit to himself. Someone to give both his body and will over to freely, who won't abuse either. But Erik is afraid of being violently claimed._
> 
>  _Charles doesn't know this. All Charles is aware of is what he picked up on from Erik's anger transmission and that he's an unclaimed submissive in US territory. So, Charles puts his foot in his mouth and a hand on Erik's shoulder to claim him the moment they're onboard the coast guard ship._
> 
>  _Erik resents this._
> 
> <http://1stclass-kink.livejournal.com/7761.html?thread=14419793#t14419793>
> 
> I wish I could have written something longer (D/s AUs are something of a _thing_ for me) but the idea itself wouldn't leave me be.

Erik Lehnsherr wanted to hate Charles Xavier from almost the moment they met. He wanted to hate everything about him, and it was a near thing. The only thing that he didn't hate about the man the moment he curled his fingers into his shoulders and said 'I will take responsibility for him' was that he wasn't alone - wasn't a freak - but even that couldn't fix the rage inside of him from Xavier's cavalier disregard in claiming him.

The two CIA agents - and the various Coast Guard officers - didn't even complain or protest the idea of Xavier just picking him up and snapping his fingers and saying 'mine'. Xavier was obviously some high status prick, and he talked like he was used to being obeyed. Erik hated him already.

"Let's get you dried off, my friend." And then they were off, being led by a pair of Coast Guard, Xavier rubbing his temples, distracted. They ended up in a small, semi-private bunk area with two pairs of sweats and a few towels. "I assume you're more than capable of drying yourself?"

Rhetorical question. Erik considered being churlish and saying that no, he couldn't, because obviously submissives couldn't do anything for themselves, why else would they need to walk around with a dominant all of the time? Still, he thought if he said that Xavier might just force him on his knees and dry him off and that was completely intolerable.

"You usually pass, I take it?" Xavier was drying off his own hair and stripping out of the thick jacket he'd been wearing, completely waterlogged now. Erik didn't answer, jaw set. "And you have permission to answer me, so don't let that stop you." He sounded amused.

Erik's jaw set even more firmly; he didn't need Xavier's condescension either.

The man sighed, hung up the jacket and came up to Erik. He was so much _littler_ than him. That bothered him, subconsciously, he supposed. He was a large man and it made it easier to think like a Dom, to pass.

"I do not require perfect obedience, Erik, or you kneeling at my feet, but it is either this or jail. It will do you no favors to languish in jail as an sub illegally entering the United States unclaimed. I have resources - the CIA can _help_ you - but I hope we can manage at least a passable show."

Erik frowned, Xavier was... ridiculous. Was he even actually a Dom? He was just ... soft and conciliatory and passive. "Fine."

Xavier didn't even correct him, not 'fine, sir' or 'fine, master' or anything of the like.

"Get yourself changed and dried off." It was barely a command, but Erik couldn't quite help how natural it felt to obey.

He tried to ignore Xavier as he stripped out of his wet suit, rubbed himself dry and slipped into the provided clothes. Xavier was allowing him his own privacy as well, just a turned back, but it was enough to leave Erik safe in his own thoughts for the moment.

"May I ask you a question?" He wondered if he could have pushed, could have just asked... but Xavier was being so accommodating and he would have rather not upset the man.

"Of course, Erik."

"What were you doing here tonight? Why was the Coast Guard raiding Schmidt's yacht?"

"That's two questions." There was no chastising, though, just a touch of humor. "The CIA knows him as Sebastian Shaw, a businessman with quite a few dubious commercial properties and activities, largely in Las Vegas. One of the CIA officers - Moira MacTaggart - witnessed him threatening a U.S. General in the presence of several mutants. I was here in an effort to attempt to contain him."

He chewed over the information. "I'm going after Schmidt."

"I will be working with the CIA in order to attempt to locate other mutants, and Shaw. He must be stopped, there is something more at work here than your quest for revenge."

"I'm not staying." He wasn't. He needed to move on, he'd get whatever information the CIA had and he would leave, he would get out of America and get as far away from Charles Xavier as possible.

Xavier had finished changing and hanging up his clothing to drip-dry. He sat on one of the bunks, eyes closed for a moment. "Come here and sit down."

After a moment's hesitation he went over to the bed and got down on his knees by Xavier's side, annoyed.

"Charles, I --" A girl walked into the room, pretty, blonde, and young. She noticed Erik, perched at Xavier's knees. She looked embarrassed and jealous. "Oh... I'm sorry. I'll come back." The girl left, closed the door behind her.

The last thing he wanted was to get into some sort of pissing contest for 'best submissive'. Xavier laughed, almost choking.

"Raven is my sister, and... not my submissive." Xavier smiled, fondly. "And she's a bit young to be doing anything but bossing around a sub in good fun, I think." He rubbed his forehead, shook his head. "To clarify, as I'm certain you may have noticed, I can read minds, that is one of those 'tricks' I mentioned before."

He tensed, he didn't want Xavier in his mind, he wanted him anywhere _but_ in his mind. Out, he wanted him out.

"Calm yourself, Erik, please. I ... do not use my powers capriciously, and the only reason I have an idea as to the nature of your thoughts is because you are thinking quite loudly." Xavier put his hand on his shoulder, squeezed very lightly. "I do apologize, for the nature of my claim on you - but... it is very much what you needed. I'm certain you appreciate that."

Erik considered what might have happened if he'd just been found by the Coast Guard, without Xavier there, jail, or possibly an even more violent claiming, but he didn't trust Xavier, not his smile or his soft assurances. He wasn't even certain he trusted that Xavier was actually a dom. Outside of getting him to dry himself - which he had wanted anyway - Xavier had commanded nothing.

He conveniently ignored the way he was bent down, kneeling in front of Xavier. He felt a hand on his head, and heard Xavier sigh, the man touched his hair, softly, teasing apart still-wet strands of hair with his fingers, face pensive.

"In front of the CIA, or others, you will call me 'sir', when we are alone, or with Raven, I would like you to call me 'Charles' instead." The phrasing was strange 'would like'. Erik wondered if Xavier would accept him calling him something else. "You will walk behind me, but may stand beside me, do not sit unless I tell you to." Simple, this was... kids stuff, to be honest, the very basics. "I understand that you have spent years ignoring what you are, I intend to ease you in, since you do not seem inclined to make my claim more permanent."

"Not going to dress me up for fancy parties, Charles?" There was just enough bite to be insubordinate.

Charles laughed, the fingers carded through Erik's hair tightened lightly, grabbing, and a Charles gave the strands a barely-there, playful tug. "I think you would look magnificent in a suit, Erik, but no. I have no need for society parties to show off how presentably I clothe my subs."

Subs, plural. Xavier couldn't dominate his way out of a paper bag.

Charles laughed again, standing, held out his hand and Erik grudgingly took it. "I must speak with Agent MacTaggart. You will come with me. If you have any needs, please voice them to me mentally." He tapped his forehead. "I simple 'Charles, I would like to...' will suffice. If I do not respond, consider the request declined."

 _"Charles, I would like to get out of here."_ Charles turned and smiled at him. "Come along, then."

They made their way through the ship, Erik staying two steps behind Charles. He could almost let himself imagine it was because of the confines of the ship - they could hardly walk abreast in the narrow corridors.

The agent - MacTaggart - was still standing on the upper railing when Charles found her. "Alright, love?"

"I wish I could say I'd never seen anything like it, but..." She laughed, leaned over the edge. "The red one was missing."

"Teleporter. Which has me curious, and another telepath. She is something. I would have loved to talk to her..." Charles curled his fingers a few times. "Well, be in her mind, I suppose I should say. Are those Coast Guard boys alright?"

"We got them all out of the water, a few are a bit shocked from the hit to the water, but just sprains."

"Good, good..."

Erik's jaw tensed, annoyed at their casual ease and his exclusion. Charles patted the railing next to him and Erik slid up beside him, leaning against the rail, as well.

"This is Erik Lehnsherr, Moira, he's been tracking Shaw for some time. I think he will be a great help to us."

"A submissive?" Dismissed, casually. Erik's jaw set.

"Now, love, I know you don't mean that." Erik relaxed, barely. "Or do they let female doms out of the typing pool all of the time?"

Erik wanted to smirk at the blow that Charles had so expertly landed, until he realized he was roughly being compared to a woman. The United States was ridiculous and backwards, a female dom _might_ rule the boardroom of a certain type of business - a submissive heavy one - but the complex social hierarchy left MacTaggart's position tenuous.

"Fine," MacTaggart agreed, eventually. "You'll run the briefing."

Of course. Certainly Erik wouldn't - he was the man that had been hunting Schmidt his entire adult life, Charles was the one who couldn't order his way out of a paper bag.

Charles was smiling again, looking out over the railing as their ship pulled into the Miami port. "Come along, Erik, we will need some proper clothes for you."

* * *

Arriving at the CIA facility the next day was... difficult. He worked with soldiers from time to time, but never when they knew so clearly that he was a sub, and never with Americans. Almost as soon as he walked through the door the silent - and verbal - heckling began. The CIA wouldn't have let a sub in for anything but secretarial or personal assistants if the sub had got on their knees and blown the whole Agency, so Erik didn't exactly expect an enlightened attitude.

After the seventh harassing cat-call - this time for Erik to show the soldier his ass - Charles took a step back and placed his hand low on Erik's back, warm and possessive and fucking claiming him again for the entire base to see. He shouldn't have liked it, but he did appreciate the silence as he walked through the halls.

Erik watched the way Charles maneuvered through the maze of doms, silencing challenges with an arched eyebrow that Erik had started to think of as a ridiculing smirk, the way he talked casually with Hank - who could never have passed for a dom under any circumstances - listened to him, nodded in certain places, and just seemed to take it for granted that Hank might know something that Charles did not. It left him with... a lot to think about when it was finally time to eat lunch.

The cafeteria stood before him like a looming monolith of embarrassment. A handful of subs sat, kneeling, at the sides of tables getting hand fed by their doms. Did Charles expect him to...? He trailed behind Charles, nerves starting to fray until Charles placed a soothing hand on his neck and he _felt_ Charles tell him to calm himself.

Charles picked up a tray. Erik blinked at it, followed behind, not asking any questions. Charles was... horribly easy going and he didn't want to break the tenuous agreement he felt like they had reached.

The man inspected everything, and Erik found himself looking down the line, seeing all of the things he wanted desperately - fresh fruit, pasta, juice - and the things he automatically dismissed, largely un-kosher. Charles picked up a hamburger and a bag of chips, a huge mount of fruit, a few vegetables, some cheese, pasta, orange, apple and cranberry juice, and then... headed out of the cafeteria. Erik's shoulders sagged in relief as Charles steered them to Charles' - and his - quarters.

Erik was shaking by the time they made it to the room, the weight of the day, the stress of the jeers and eyes on him all of the time. Acting the part of a sub didn't come naturally to him, he wasn't used to it.

"Erik, sit down." He sunk down to the floor, knees on the hard concrete floor before he realized Charles had spoken. The man sighed, pulled a pillow off of one of the beds and set it down. "Over here." He moved. Charles touched his hair, possessive and soothing. Slow the knot of tension that had been building since he walked through the door started to relax. "What did you think of the tour today?"

Erik... flinched. He'd been fighting against being ignored, belittled, catcalled, inspected, and almost touched that when Charles finally allowed him to let it all go he just couldn't quite stand it.

"Ah. Here." Charles pressed a grape to his lips and Erik ate it, mechanically. It was good, actually. A strawberry followed, and then Charles slowly peeled an orange and pressed a section to Erik's lips. Charles started to chatter. "Hank was quite amazing, don't you think? Another mutant, and such a brilliant one as well. Raven seemed quite taken with him. I suppose it is time for one of those brotherly talks."

He chuckled, one hand in Erik's hair, the other feeding him slowly, perched on the bed. The tangled mix of shame and pleasure he got from having Charles tell him what to do and having the man feed him, mixed with the embarrassment of how much he was enjoying it, slowly started to unravel into something that just felt... enjoyable.

"You truly are a marvel, my friend." Charles continued to feed him, sneaking bits of carrot and celery and cheese in between fruit. "I always suspected there could be dozens - maybe hundreds - of other mutants out there, but to see you... I am fascinated."

He didn't want Charles to be fascinated - Schmidt had been fascinated by him...

"I am not going to hurt you, Erik. If you need it, of course, but only then, and not out of some sadism." Erik tried to relax, tried to trust Charles. Charles kept giving him no reason to distrust him and yet... he'd gone so long without someone to hold him back that he was struggling to... stop struggling.

"Up you go." Erik stood, Charles dusted off his hands. "Take off your shirt." He hesitated for only a moment, but he saw that Charles noticed it. He felt a strange guilt, that he had disappointed Charles. He tugged the turtleneck off and carefully folded it - he knew Charles was fastidious about clothing.

Charles shuffled through his own bag, brought over from England, apparently, before finally retrieving a bottle of something that looked like hand lotion. Erik tensed, tensed and started to back away.

"Sit down, Erik, on the bed." His hesitation took longer this time, but he finally forced his body down, nerves and fear and frustration mixed with the pleasure of obeying. Charles hands, cool with lotion, touched his shoulders gently at first, barely ghosting over them.

"I'm supposed to do things like this for you..." Erik protested. Charles carrying a tray for him, touching his shoulders, it wasn't right...

"On your stomach," Charles ordered, and Erik complied almost instantly despite a flash of nerves. Charles' fingers dug into his shoulder blades along the tense muscles there. "Erik, I am supposed to take care of you, know what you need, tell you to do it. You cannot fight your nature."

He wished he could. Every time Charles pushed him he followed, and it was making him feel more at peace than he'd imagined. Charles started around his neck, fingers working away months of tension, maybe years, with barely any effort. His fingers trailed down, touched shoulder blades and somehow worked and found every little knot that had been an old friend of Erik's that he carried in his spine for ages. His back loosened, slowly, Erik wriggling slightly under Charles' hands from time to time, only to receive a gentle slap to his side to still him.

Erik dozed, fell asleep, only to be awakened some time to the feel of Charles touching his hair, cleaned fingers playing through his hair and massaging his scalp slowly. He yawned, rolled over to look at Charles, the man was settled on the edge of the bed, fingers running down the side of Erik's face and then a gentle palm rested on his chest.

"Feeling a bit better, my friend?"

"Yes." He closed his eyes. "Yes, Charles."

He felt warm, buzzed, and happy, content even, and Charles' hand on his chest was doing torturous things to his body that he truly hadn't expected. Erik had spent too much time alone, and now that he had someone touching him he suddenly couldn't get enough. Slowly, Charles hand slid down, playing with his stomach, and his lips followed moments later.

Erik didn't move, warring between letting go and fighting, resisting. Charles nipped along his stomach, just lightly, not even enough to bruise, but Erik gasped. He reached out his hand to touch Charles' head, paused, clenched his fist just inches from Charles.

"Touch me."

Erik reached out immediately, fingers playing with too-neat hair, messing it up. He could feel the smile on Charles' lips as he continued to kiss and nip, lips pressed against hard muscles of his abdomen.

Finally, Charles' finger brushed along his crotch, feeling the half-hardness there. Erik couldn't help but throw his head back, biting his lip to keep from making a sound.

"Let me hear you, Erik. Let go."

He unclenched his lip from between his teeth, panting softly.

"Undo your pants." Erik reached down. "With your mind," Charles corrected a moment later, a hand lightly pinning his wrist.

That was more difficult, especially since Charles kept up the just-barely-there pressure over his cock, sliding up and down his clothed length. The fly he managed quickly, the zipper was more difficult as he tugged down the pull, carefully, trying not to scratch against his erection.

When he finished, he whimpered, head leaning back against the pillow. Charles gently tugged down pants and boxers, Erik arching up without needing to be told, but Charles left them just around his thighs before all his attention was on Erik's cock.

"I don't think I've ever seen anything so beautiful." And then Charles leaned forward, tongue pressing flat against his tip and Erik felt himself twitch under the touch. Charles hummed, perfect red lips sliding down around his head, thumb running down the underside and Erik was lost.

Torturously slow, Charles slid farther down his erection, tongue sliding wet against him, fingers touching everything he couldn't take into his mouth. Every second was agonizingly good and Erik could hear his own breath become ragged, Charles' mouth drawing moans out of him as he fought not to thrust.

 _Let go, Erik._ Charles' voice echoed in his mind. _Fuck me, slide down my throat._

Erik bucked up, and Charles swallowed him down, taking in every inch, moaning around him. He couldn't last, legs straining to fuck Charles' deeper but he only managed to whimper and come into Charles' mouth. The man pressed him down with hands, holding him shallower as he swallowed, groaning when the hot fluid hit his tongue.

Charles' fingers stroked his hips and thighs through his orgasm, slowly pulling off to lick Erik clean when he was spent. His tongue greedily licking like the sluttiest sub Erik could imagine before he left Erik's cock resting against his thigh.

Erik sprawled against the bed, boneless, dimly aware he should do something for Charles. At this point he would have gladly rolled over to have Charles fuck him, but instead the man slid up the bed and tugged Erik against him, the two of them sprawled against the headboard. Charles wrapped his arms around Erik, fingers playing with his chest again, just soft, warm touches, circling over his body.

He reached out, trying to find Charles' erection with his fingers, but Charles batted him away before he reached his goal. "I'm fine, Erik. This is about you, what you need."

Erik didn't understand.

"Close your eyes, love." He did. "Go to sleep."

God help him, he did.

He woke some time later, his pants done back up, settled in on top of the bed, Charles nowhere to be found. Erik had to leave. Now. Soon. It was far too easy to let himself follow Charles anywhere and it scared the hell out of him.

Erik snuck into the file room, stole what he needed on Shaw and was out in the clear when he heard Charles' voice behind him. "From what I know about you, I'm surprised you've managed to stay this long."

He stopped, already defeated, and he wondered if Charles realized that. Probably.

"I won't stop you leaving. I could, but I won't."

He was completely undone, and it felt like freedom.


End file.
